It was no mean task to reach the roof of the log building, and once there Harry had a hard task of it to put out the flames, which were spreading in spite of the wetting the building had received.
“Here is a wet cloth,” called out Joe, and threw the object up to his chum.
“HE DROPPED, A DEAD WEIGHT, INTO JOE’S ARMS.”—P. [291].
Harry caught the cloth and was just on the point of pounding out some more of the fire with it, when another flight of arrows came into the inclosure.
One arrow struck the young pioneer in the leg, and another in the arm.
“Oh!” he cried. “I am struck!”
“Harry! Harry! come down!” called out Joe.
He had scarcely spoken when Harry pitched headlong on the roof of the building. Then he rolled over and over down to the edge and dropped a dead weight into Joe’s arms.